Dead Space: On Board
by Shattering Chadwick
Summary: What if both Isaace Clarke and Nicole Brennan were aboard the Ishimura when all things went to hell? What hardships would be encountered, what outcomes would be experienced? R&R if you want, doesn't matter. This was just an idea I'd had. Enjoy...
1. Chapter 1

Dead Space and all characters and miscellaneous are property of Visceral Studios and Electronic Arts—I own nothing! The following story is pure fiction using several characters, both copyrighted by EA and original of my own thought in a story, that too, is original, enjoy. (This is my second Dead Space fanfic, just some twist of an idea I had.)

DEAD SPACE: ON BOARD

Chapter 1: The Down-Spiraling

In the 26th century of mankind natural resources on earth were running on empty. Through the advancements of things like Shockpoint (light speed travel) and Planetcracking (a means of outer space mining on unimaginable scales for collected resources used to be distributed both on earth and throughout the other human inhabited areas) journeys were taken to far ends of the known universe in the effort of keeping the human race alive.

A video feed from Isaac Clarke's engineering outfit displayed a young looking woman, light hair and gentle expression.

"One hour, right?" she asked the man.

He gave a tender smirk, rolling his eyes. "Yes, Mess Hall, one hour. I _got_ it, Nicole."

Nicole snickered as a man behind Isaac commented on him being whipped whereas in response he threw a used oil jug at the man's waist. She withdrew her smile concealing hand from her mouth.

"All right, I'm off. I love you, Isaac."

A group of fellow employees had gathered as an audience to make an 'Awww' sound. Clarke raked agitated fingers through his short cut hair.

"Will he say it?" asked one of them. Another piped up as well. "Come on, Clarke, say it back!"

On the holo-display Nicole's eyes and smug grin were thanking the prodding crowd.

Isaac never took the curled hand from his mouth to reply. "I love you too."

The gathered mob made an uproar upon hearing this. Isaac Clarke's close friend Denny Welker wrapped an arm over his shoulders.

"Way to go, buddy. He's lucky to have you, girl!" Denny finished the sentence with a childish wink.

Isaac rushed off the line. "One hour, I'll be there." The feed went out. He turned to face his onlookers, anticipation wetting their facial expressions. The man shook his head. "You guys are dicks."

They laughed and chided scattering back to their posts as they did so. Now it was just Welker and Isaac. The man was known as a jester, an ever present smile strapped to his face. He picked up his gear.

"One hour, eh? That means we got fifty minutes to get this job done. We don't want our stud being late for his hot date now, do we?" His gut was met with an inoperable welding torch knocking the winds clean out from him.

"Funny," Isaac proclaimed with sarcasm. He left the man behind to catch his breath finding his way through the RIG antechamber to a fairly simple machine that aided in the putting on of a person's suit. Engineer's suits, like miner's suits, were hefty and constricting making getting them on an endeavor in their own right.

"Say what you will," said Isaac, "but it's been practically a week since we've been able to even see each other. Even though we're serving on the same ship it's like we're in totally different cities."

Welker boarded a suit outfitting mechanism next to Isaac. "Boo Hoo… you knew it wouldn't be all fun and games."

The two of them grunted while the machines strapped the tight fitting suits over them. Isaac was done first.

"Hey, what's the job detail again?" he asked, turning back to Denny.

Welker stepped from the machine before saying a word. "I hate your memory."

"What's that supposed to mean—" Welker cut the man off.

"You can remember Nicky's favorite color, food, and birthday, but you can't recall a job that was asked of us no more than an hour ago." Isaac shrugged playing dumb making Welker surrender. "The poor saps in Mineral Processing had some rubble from Aegis dislodge while trying to smelt it and it's nothing but a huge obstacle now. They want us to remove the rocks and repair any sustained damages."

A smile took over Isaac's lips. "So we're the cleanup crew, eh?"

Denny gave a swift nod. "And that, my friend, is what makes us the Dream Team—course, to be honest, I'd much rather do this job than the one we had the other day."

"Readjusting the Gravity Tethers… damn, that was a tough one."

"Well," Denny added, "it was either be Ishimura Journeymen engineers or be stuck in the engine sector all hours of the day chugging aspirin from all that damned hardware."

The men gathered aboard the ten-by-ten elevator and activated the pad making it descend ever so gently down to the mining level. The two of them chatted the whole way down. The men had grown up knowing each other from their days of training in the CEC. Isaac only had a few years on Denny and while Denny used the conventional method to get things done Isaac tended to improvise on the job, only his improvisations usually wound up working better than the actual methods. Work wise, the two of them were a force to be reckoned with on the plantecracker.

Upon the lift's opening men fluttered by garbed in mining suits that looked very similar to their own. The major feature, however, was a mining suit had two slits for the visor, while an engineer's had three. They unloaded themselves from the elevator and were absorbed into the mishmash flanks. The people rushing past weren't only an annoyance to Isaac, but a hindrance to their performance as well. Donny noticed a man waving them over a good distance away.

They approached the higher up who obviously ran this deck's procedures. He welcomed them first with a salute, then a handshake each.

"Gentleman," he began," I can't thank you enough for managing to get down here this quickly. As you can see we're sort of in frenzy over this whole ordeal."

"How'd this happen?" Isaac asked the man.

"You remember that jostling the ship gave about two hours ago? Well, that's the cause."

"What was the cause of the turbulence?" Denny wondered aloud.

The man gave a slight chuckle over the comm. which was much needed to hear over the bustling workers. "You figure that out I'll be _real_ impressed. Anyhoo, we need this job done ASAP and captain Matthius personally recommended you two. I'd follow through with introductions but we just don't have the time, so, if you'll follow me—"

The three of them made their way straight into the massive room that was Mineral Processing. Here a gravitational pulling beam seared from out of one side of the wall and out a hole in the opposite end. Here the beam was consistent, but procedures weren't easy to do unless the gravity was on. Now the gravity paneling was off allowing zero-G capabilities for repair. A group of onlookers gathered as the head of operations gave them the lowdown.

"We got everything from fragments and debris to damaged sections of wall, floor, and the brackets keeping the beam on its way were loosened a bit. That rocking sure gave us hell down here. Whaddya think?"

The two engineers looked at each other, Denny nodding then Isaac turning back to face the head.

"Give us an hour and half," he grunted.

Welker immediately threw a friendly arm over Isaac's armor-clad shoulders, "Give us fifty minutes, guy, my pal here has an appointment to keep."

Isaac rolled his eyes behind his visor as the head let them go to their work. Denny volunteered for repairing the electronic disturbances while Isaac was stuck with removing the debris, a much more difficult and labor inducing task.

"Why am I stuck doing the menial crap?" he asked his partner.

Denny was now floating up and away toward the ceiling thanks to the gravity absent atmosphere, his back to his friend. "You know as well as I do that you're better with the whole Kinesis thing than I am!"

Isaac let him go, the rhetorical question evading him now; he knew the truth after all. A number of years back Welker had had a severe mishap with a similar endeavor. It wound up injuring both him and his partner at the time, a man whose name Isaac couldn't quite bring to memory. After a few moments the man already had a large chunk of rock going out the Ishimura's underside through the beam. The artificial intelligence that served as a means of work communication throughout the planetcracker reflected Clarke's doings as it spoke.

"Looks like we got fans," Welker shouted from the other end of the room.

Clarke peered over to the open door where the crowd had gathered. Undoubtedly, they were the men unable to do their work from the accident. "Very astute," he replied. A crackle reared over his comm. then. The incoming voice was obviously female and since engineering had very little female workers, Isaac guessed roughly three, it was most likely Nicole trying to get in touch with him.

"Isaac…" he heard over the crippling static. "Isaac… there? Everyone's… don't understand! We're holed up… Clinic… help us!" The interference caused by the gravitational beam down there was mindboggling. Regardless, it was easy to tell the woman was locked under great distress. Though he wasn't entirely sure, he was almost certain he heard screams in the background. Isaac patched his link up to Welker's RIG.

"Denny, something's wrong, Nicole was trying to relay me something."

"Awww," the man chimed in a childish tone. "Hope she's not cancelling on you."

"You idiot, I mean it seemed like something bad was going on!"

There was a long pause from Denny's end before he responded. "Look, if you'd like I'll request someone else to fill in for you while you go after your woman and see what's up, though I'm sure you're just full of it…"

"Whatever you say, Den, thanks."

With only a little over half of the debris cleared Isaac deactivated the gravity functions of his heavy, metal boots and lunged for the open door where the workers were still watching. They moved apart as Clarke sifted through them moments later. Some looked angered at his leaving while others showed distinct signs of wonderment.

Isaac tried getting through to Nicole without the beam coming between them. "Nicky, you there? Nicole, if you can hear this, please respond. It's Isaac!"

Sharp twangs of static erupted over the feed again but still the engineer waited plodding sluggishly over the metal flooring of the mining deck halls before the static subsided and clear communication was achieved.

"Isaac," the woman began, "something's going on. People have started storming into the clinic with claims of attacks from fellow employees that had gone insane. But these injuries are too substantial, we can't—there are so many we had to barricade the Clinic—keep them out!" she couldn't go on.

"Nicole, I don't understand. What do you want me to do?"

"Isaac, it's not just people doing these things, there's something else. Something is aboard the ship, Isaac! Fractions of my staff have already disappeared! I just—just need your help right now, I need _you_!"

Isaac listened helplessly as his lover burst into no withheld tears. It was hard to think somewhere on this vessel, only an estimated mile away this was happening. He shook his head, his gloved hand firmly applied to the side of his helmet before he thought of a solution.

"I'm on my way, baby. We'll see what this old man can do." When she was frightened like this, even in times before, for whatever reason, he started talking to her like a fatherly figure. But it helped; she always calmed enough to gather herself.

A long, slobbering hum of audio seeped out before Nicole's voice came back to his ear. "All right… I'll be waiting for you. I love you, Isaac."

This time the man didn't hesitate, he didn't give a second thought. He simply replied. "I love you too." The link went dead. Isaac instantly started off toward the deck's main lift until he was met by the mining head.

"Where are you going?" he asked him sternly.

Isaac removed his helmet. "Something's going on up top, I don't know what myself, but I'm heading up there to give whatever support I can." He trotted past the man where a firm hand met his shoulder, spinning him back around.

"You have a job to do down here! Get back in Processing!"

Isaac shoved the curled hand from his body. "People are stuck in the Clinic, and in bad shape might I add! I'm going to go see what's going on up there, it seems more important than what's up down here."

"This level is the lifeblood of this ship, engineer! You think there's anything more important than _this_? Well, there's not! Get back in there!" The man grabbed at Isaac's arm and reeled him back toward Processing. His face, pudgy and blanketed with facial hair, was met with a powerful jab. He staggered back, pain and shock overwhelming his form and he found himself on his rear at the engineer's feet.

"Quite frankly, I don't give a rat's ass about any of _this_… now I've been requested up at the Clinic and that's where I'm headed. You wanna go and report this to Matthius—go head. As for myself, I put my relationships before my job." With his spiel over he skulked off toward the lift leaving the head of mining behind in a daze.

"That's it," the stuttering man called after. "You'll be hearing from the captain. He's gonna _haul your ass_ out of here!"

Isaac Clarke never bothered to retort or even turn to face him, he just plodded off. "It wouldn't be the first time," he said under his breath. Finally he found the lift, using its hologram display to rise back to the top at the RIG antechamber. He passed only a couple floors when the lift went out coming to a halt on its emergency brakes. The lights, too, had failed.

"Shit…" he whispered. Now was most certainly not the time.

Suddenly, the crimson, deafening alarms of quarantine went off. Inside the chute the sounds were especially amplified. Seconds later the ships' PA system came to life playing a rather baritone voice over it.

"This is the captain, Benjamin Matthius. Due to a sudden, unforeseen problem, I have initiated a ship-wide quarantine to prevent any further incidents. These incidents are under investigation at this time and I ask that you stay where you are until things are cleared. These temporary measurements will be lifted when safety notifications are given. Thank you."

Isaac was aware now—fully aware. Whatever Nicky had reported to him was much more severe than he initially thought. In the mean time this lift wasn't going anywhere, but that wouldn't stop his impatient demeanor. Using his bright visor lighting he found a grate covering a ventilation shaft only feet away from him. It would have to do.

His hefty boot kicked the metal covering in causing some of its rivets to spring out. Then he pulled it aside. I'm on my way, he thought. I'm on my way.

Isaac crawled into the waiting arms of the unknown; hell's waiting for him the likes of which he could never have imagined.


	2. Chapter 2

Again, as I'm sure you're aware, I own nothing. Visceral Studios and Electronic Arts own **ALL** Dead Space related things. Thanks for the reviews, hope they keep coming :)

DEAD SPACE: ON BOARD

Chapter 2: The Enigma

Hand over gloved hand pulled the engineer, each hand fall as loud within the suffocating vent shaft as the other. The ominous blue glow from Isaac's helmet stretched a good ten feet in front of him in the smothering space. In situations the stuffy helmet was a good thing to have making a flashlight an obsolete factor.

It was amazing how loud every harsh breath was to him then. After what felt like hours, but was really a mere ten minute trek (so his suit's clock said), the man had made it to a vertical point in the vent system. Here he could stand straight up and the walls allowed for a slight amount of more room. If the helmet hadn't been over him he'd've given his stubble ridden chin a good rub in thought.

"Damn," he uttered lowly. This wouldn't just be an annoyance to him but an endeavor. For a moment he thought he'd heard something far off behind him in the vent. Not that that was likely, he thought.

This little trick of climbing would take some well calibrated maneuvers. First Isaac would have to separate the artificial gravity pumps of each boot using his wrist display. From there he'd have to time on a near perfect level when to engage and disengage the gravity of each boot in order to manage steps up the ninety degree angled walls of the shaft. It was times like these he was glad he'd pursued a life in engineering. With a passing glance he couldn't see the top, but using the very end of his visor's glow he could only assume it was at least a thirty foot incline—fun. After coming to terms with his life up to this point Isaac began the death defying stunt.

Every time one of the boots connected with the hollow vent wall a thud as loud as thunder ruptured out permeating his every fiber. He undid the gravity under his left boot and raised it a good foot before reapplying the gravity making another boom of metal on metal roar. Isaac gave a hefty sigh. "It's another day out in the Venus orbit," he chuckled aloud.

He stopped mid step then. A series of clitter-clatters were coming from beneath him; not directly under, some good distance away still, yet all the same. There _was_ something in here with him, or some_one_ at least.

"Hello?" he called out. His voice gave a mighty echo. Silence seeped ever so disturbingly in. Then motion came from somewhere, everywhere, and nowhere.

"What the hell is going on?"

Mad scrabbles and high pitch squeals, maybe rakings of something sharp on metal accompanied the horrifying varied mix. Then, frighteningly enough, the very walls of the shaft moved under his feet and against his back. _Nothing_ could climb this fast—unless, of course, it wasn't human. But what _could_ possibly clamor such a difficult slope and surface with such speed? It stopped as abruptly as it began. Pitter-patters of liquid driveled down the metal side of the shaft from just beneath him. Reluctantly, Isaac peered down between his legs.

Dead eyes sunken in a pile of rotting flesh looked horrifyingly back at him. Upon the light splashing over it the thing's disjointed mouth let fly a grotesque snarl. The engineer felt something bladed go into his thigh but he wrenched it free. Hastening himself, he let the gravity of a boot undo and he slammed the heavy piece of footwear into the beast. Not only did the impact knock it loose but made it tumble all the way back to the bottom. Its land was enormous in terms of relinquished sound.

Now with his Fight-or-Flight response going haywire Isaac hurried himself up the shaft. Each of his steps went from collective and calculated to uneasy and clumsy. Finally, in all the surrounding blue, he could see the next section of vents that led off at a horizontal direction. He pushed himself to it regardless of the fact that the mess of rot was up and after him once more.

Beneath him the creature flew after.

Here the vent was narrower and because of this he had to struggle like a toddler to make any means of progress. The thing was up near him a second time. Its scrapes and growls closed in on him something like a bullet. In the heat of the moment his brain recalled the Stasis Module he'd just picked up earlier this morning in Mineral Processing. Managing however he could he twisted just enough to splash a saturating dose of Stasis over the monster.

Its pale gray body burst into a deep blue as its movement became so slow it almost appeared to not move at all. Thanks to the suit's enhancing capabilities he swung hard with a backhand cracking it so hard in the head that it became dislodged. Isaac uttered a retching sound forth from his lips and he staggered all the way to the first vent opening he came across.

In a panic the man slammed the vent off its screws with a hard kick and he undid himself from the shaft.

Then a pair of sick arms reached out past him from the darkness behind him, blades as long as arms themselves tried to envelop him like spider legs. _The thing was still alive_! Using its ambushing embrace it reeled Isaac back toward it. His arms were the only thing keeping him from an uncertain fate. He further used the suit's powers to fit his own needs and he reached out to where the hazy blue glow was inching. His gloved hand found a toolbox and he slid it backward off the desktop hard. It connected with whatever it was and it let Isaac go long enough for him to recover.

In the spur of the moment the engineer pulled an electrically powered rivet gun up and he undid the necessary safety on it. As soon as he saw a single inch of the ghoul he unloaded three bolts into it. It vanished back into the darkness once again. Isaac's know-how showed itself and he rammed both hands into the floor pulling back a piece of floor paneling. Sparks flew as the piece of flooring was forced to surrender itself to him leaving its protective barrier over the artificial gravity.

He spun around practically throwing the panel over the open shaft where he kept it upright with a raised boot. He took a spare clip of rivets off the side of the gun and jammed it into place. The gun relieved its pressure announcing a successful reload. Isaac proceeded to slide the panel into better position when another bladed limb jutted forth out at him scraping off his thick helmet. In the midst of rage and fear Isaac charged the gun and blasted two bolts into the right corners of the panel locking it into place.

As he did the last two corners he heard the beast succumb to its lost prey and off it went somewhere, somehow.

The rivet gun fell with a boom to the floor. The man was again left to his harsh breaths. Exhausted from the experience and tired of having to put up with his hot exhales he undid the clamps of his helmet and took it off tossing it aside. Shaky fingers ran through his short cut hair.

"What the _fuck_?" he cried out to himself. "What the hell was _that_?" Alien, demon, science experiment gone awry, he didn't know and quite frankly he wished to keep it that way.

After a few more moments Isaac Clarke, being the man he was, took the opportunity to recalibrate and adapt accordingly. He looked about the room. It was no wonder it was empty other than he. He'd come out at a storage room. Boxes and crates were stacked on either side of the only door to be had and the desk he'd drawn both the toolbox and rivet gun from was cluttered with needless junk.

Then a scream, no, a multitude of cries broke out from behind the door. They came and went in a stampeding fashion. The man's eyes widened and he brought the gun back into hand. He dashed to the door completely forgetting the helmet. He swiped his free hand over the holographic emblem over the door. It recognized his CEC ID implanted in his palm and it began its opening procedures.

Suddenly remembering, Isaac used his respectable Kinesis skills and lassoed in both two more rivet clips and the helmet. The clips attached magnetically to his thigh, the helmet again went over his head.

This time he was ready. This time he would fight.


	3. Chapter 3

Dead Space belongs to Visceral Studios and Electronic Arts. I own _**nothing**_, fyi. Thanks for the support everyone. Hope you enjoy chapter 3.

DEAD SPACE: ON BOARD

Chapter 3: The Reality

Isaac Clarke lunged from the storage closet with a ferocity he may have never felt before. Instantly he was met by a muddled crowd of Ishimura crew making haste for their respective gains. All were screaming, some were crying, and some still were splattered with the blood of others.

The engineer sifted through them feeling like he was trying to permeate a literal wall. He kept the rivet gun drawn as often as he could forcing some of the frightened deckhands to cry out with additional woe. Aside from the berating noise the bustling mob created Isaac's labored breathing was harsher to him than any other thing. He spun around the next corner like a security officer; a focus in place he generally used when presented with a difficult job.

There was nothing to be seen. Shreds of paper slid gently down the hall floor. Even so there was a tangible odor in the air, something so strong he could even sense it through his thick helmet. He swung the lit faceplate back and forth illuminating what he could, but for whatever reason the lights were dim here.

Every footstep was like thunder, every heartbeat an expulsion of anxiety. Somewhere up ahead the groans of straining metal played a poorly conveyed rhythm. The light from the rivet gun, hopelessly useless, came together with the helmet's visor giving the engineer the greatest source of sight he could muster. A creak of metal splayed through his ears a second time, then a third. It was much louder now. Something rattled from around the corner of another adjacent corridor. They were the falling of feet.

Isaac brought the gun up quickly checking to make sure it was fully loaded and ready to impale. His nervous system bloomed into full brilliance within him. Any second now; any moment—then it came around the corner, Isaac's body locked in a stance of brutal offense. The man, garbed in Ishimura standard issue attire, sank to his knees.

"Please, no, I—I'm not one of _them_!" he pleaded.

Clarke's clouded mind did away with the distracting essence of pressure. "It's all right," he managed to expel, "I'm not out to harm someone unaffected. What the hells going on, do you know?" He drew a hand out to the cowered individual who gladly accepted it.

"I haven't the faintest—you?"

The fully armored engineer shook his head regrettably. The two of them collected themselves and after a couple minutes the stranger brought out a pack of cigarettes. Isaac wasn't aware anyone still succumbed to those ancient stress-managing things. The man smacked the pack against a flat palm and opened it up bringing one to his quivering lips.

The man held the pack toward Clarke. "Want one? It's not often I share," he managed a chuckle.

Isaac responded with a raised hand. He shook his head. "I got gum," he joked back. The two of them joined together in a subtle laugh. Somewhere ahead still he heard the strain of metal and he forced himself to listen more closely.

The flick of the butane lighter caught the engineer by surprise. He watched the fingertip size flame dance in the air until it met the tip of the tobacco stick with embers flaring from it.

"I always thought these things would be the death of me," the man started, "not some alien, monster movie shit…"

A long pause crept in between the couple. Isaac gave out a sigh; he realized his throat was raw. "So is it alien?" he pondered aloud.

His newfound friend used a spanned pointer finger and thumb to rub at his weary eyes. "I don't even know. Matthias relayed problems going on in the morgue—that was some time after the shuttles careened into the damn side of the ship. Before we were attacked a couple blocks down rumors were swimming around about all the escape pods being launched."

Isaac's heart sank. "Every last one of them… but there was dozens! And what shuttles?"

The man heaved a great puff of smoke out from his lips. "You didn't hear about _that_? Yeah, talk of it's been going 'round everywhere for the past couple hours."

Isaac thought back. It sounded like the perfect amount of time for when the ship jostled on its axis; the cause of why he and Denny had to go to Mineral Processing. "These ships that crashed… where'd they come from?"

His conversationalist grew a condescending smirk over his face. "The colony on Aegis… where else would they come from? You think someone else is willingly gonna shockpoint into an illegal zone?"

Isaac Clarke's meeting now presented far more questions than any answers he had. A surplus of question marks and a limit of periods wasn't the type of person he was known to be. And one way or another he'd make sure to get to the bottom of this conundrum.

Any further exchange of words came abruptly to an end as somewhere in the looming darkness metal gave way under some form of persuasion. Both men climbed to their feet in record time. Isaac brought the rivet gun back up to ready position, his new friend buckled under the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Screw this," he screamed out. "I'm finding a way off this hell hole!" With that said he made a mad dash to whatever destination he was after. "I hope you do the same, buddy!"

With that Clarke was all alone once again, or so he felt. Though he was unable to see, his enhanced hearing due to the helmet picked up the pitter-patters of something fleshy and quick. A roar reverberated off of everything then. It was reminiscent of what he'd heard when voyaging through the vents but this, whatever it was, sounded much more feral. Was it bigger, or just meaner?

Cautiously he strode forward, the rivet gun going everywhere he did first and foremost. Metal suddenly crashed and clanged and powerful clamoring shuddered overhead. The thing was back in the vents. It was fast and aggravating and he knew he'd have to keep a keen eye on ever angle around him.

_You should have ran too_ said his brain. No, he couldn't do that… least of all to Nicole.

The blue hue of the helmet's light scanned over the perforated ceiling. Then the thing came flying back up above making him unload his whole clip into the vent where he believed it to have been. Slowly, molasses-like, a dark colored liquid oozed from a couple of the bolt holes. Isaac could see that one spot was unstable and so he triggered his Kinesis on it.

The energy snapped both the ceiling plates and venting open. Something came swooping down, hung up only by gnarled skin. Isaac yelped in fear.

Staring hollowly back at him were the dead eyes of the man he'd just held a curious conversation with just minutes before. All scraps of fear left him then. He never made it. There was surely no way out. He came to find then that the stench he'd smelled a short while back had now returned. Another low, guttural snarl ruptured out from the vents.

"Shit," Isaac whimpered.

A powerful appendage, something that looked like a tail, whip-sawed out from the shadows and connected with him squarely in the chest. Its brunt force was so direct it made him tumble back, through the man's dangling corpse, and both he and the body fell in a heap to the floor. His attacker seeped from the venting crawling, miraculously on the walls, _with its hands_.

The creature slithered down the wall on these hands that until some time ago had been human. When it came to the floor it retched forth another roar from a horribly dislocated jaw that opened up in half. Spines ran down its back where its vertebrae were and what should have been legs was a twisted mess of skin made into a tail with what looked to be a nasty point. There was absolutely no mercy to be had from this oddity.

It leapt far with ease and pinned the engineer to the floor without much effort. Again it squealed, disgusting odors of death pouring through his helmet. Not that he noticed with all his screaming. Then it plunged its rotting head into the area of his suit the protected the meat of his neck instantly causing enormous pain.

The two of them wrestled with vigorous tenacity. Each had opposite ends to meet and in the end Isaac with his ability enhancing suit won. He brought up both legs and kicked out hard making the creature sprawl over the floor in a daze. With a moment to himself he managed the rivet gun back into his grip and he reloaded. He spun on his boots; the thing was back on its hands ready to jump again.

It never got the chance. Its right hand was met with a fresh rivet trapping it to the cold floor. It squealed in what Clarke believed to be pain before its other hand, too, was pinned down by a second bolt. With it stuck in place the engineer brought a heavy boot up high and he mashed and stomped its head into the metal surface until no movement, not even from overacting nerves, could be seen.

His breathing subsided a while after he'd finished the dirty deed. Had he killed someone? His confused brain asked his wavering heart. If he had it was in self defense, but he had to recall that it technically was no longer human.

With a strong exhale he started on his way again. "One day God knows how many more to go."

He trudged down the corridor in a straight line. With every step he began to give in more and more. On either side of him the walls became redder and redder. Slick crimson lifeblood lathered every surface around him. He could hear his boots suctioning themselves from the fluid under him.

He came to an open area where a mass of people had been collected and ultimately dumped. Mangled body parts were strewn about in no particular way.

Isaac Clarke cried long and hard, huddling into himself. He didn't cry from the situation, nor did he cry out of fear—though that played part. He cried for Nicole and wherever it was she was at. He could have stayed there for a while catching his bearings and realigning his sanity, but he didn't have the luxury of time. Behind him, far off, he could hear multiples of something coming. Caring not to know what, and knowing he had no means of taking on a group, the engineer pressed forward into the Ishimura: the chasm of obscurity.


	4. Chapter 4

Decided to include a new aspect: POV of Nicole, it only seemed right, Isaac can't claim all the glory all the time… here I tried a piece with a section from the game Dead Space Extraction. It felt like an element that should be covered to me. Thanks again for the reviews and the encouragement!

DEAD SPACE: ON BOARD

Chapter 4: The Other Side

A little over two hours had passed since Nicole Brennan had given aid to a handful of survivors from the Aegis colony. The medical officer was as astonished of meeting the four souls as she was with hearing the appalling tales they spun around her ears: the killings, the insanity, all of it.

The one question that lingered now was '_Where do we go from here_?'

As the newcomers discussed their possible options amongst themselves Nicole was stowed away in her own concerns. Was Isaac alive? she pondered.

Three of the four survivors stumbled over the sterile floor of a kinesis analysis room. Often used as a means of therapeutic aid, the area had been converted into a makeshift medical unit when the quarantine instated by Mathias took effect. The survivors, taken in by the senior medical officer, consisted of the youngest and rather attractive Lexine Murdoch, bold and chiseled security officer Nathan Mcneill, and weary mining executive Warren Eckhardt.

Each person was twitchy in their own right and Nicole noticed a heightened sense to surrounding sounds amongst them. The officer strode over to a panel that, for the moment, refused to relinquish its contents of Gabriel Weller. She recognized the man from the many decks of the Ishimura heaving his gained authority of security officer about in what she thought was a snide manner.

"I don't like this," proclaimed McNeill. Lexine made an attempt to cool his nerves but it was lost effort. He continued on. "The cannons of the Ishimura were aimed at _us_ and nothing else! What the hell kind of welcoming is that from the bridge?"

Nicole Brennan could have easily snapped back at him but she did with this man the same as she did with her lover Isaac. She shut her eyes offering a second of silence, biting her lip in the process. She felt it kept her hostility from the perceptions of others. Then she straightened up, turning from the stasis tube that still held Officer Weller and fed McNeill all she truly knew.

"I'm not sure of all I can say, Mr. McNeill. The ship is on lockdown thanks to some sort of outbreak—infestation."

"Infestation?" Lexine blurted in. She shrank almost immediately.

Nicole glanced over at Eckhardt who was taking a gander at the specs the monitor displayed of Lexine's tests. Lexine followed the woman's eyes and felt the need to investigate his intentions. As the young woman stepped away Nicole supplied what little answers she could.

"We're… not all that sure of what it is we're dealing with aboard here. It's rampant and vicious and merciless. We don't know of any cures, we don't know of any solutions at all. We're doing the best we can." Her eyes sunk to the floor sullen in defeat.

Nathan McNeill glazed his perspiring face, disregarding the set room temperature of a perfect seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit, with two flat hands. "And I'd thought we'd left this behind us on Aegis."

"So it _is_ happening down there as well," Nicole Brennan said, taken aback.

Nathan nodded with a sickened expression painted over his face. "They're human aren't they? Or… they were, right?"

Brennan inhaled deeply as if trying desperately to fill her lungs with the very tangible feeling of life itself. She nodded back at him a moment later knowing no other way to convey his worst fears. "By what we've gathered, yes, and we don't know what to do about them."

"Kill them," McNeill rebutted angrily. "You aim for the limbs," he began raising his arms like he were firing a gun shutting one eye, "and tear 'em apart." He pulled the imaginary trigger that was his thumb.

For some reason, maybe she knew after all, Nicole felt a tear bubbling to her eye. She turned back to Weller's stasis tube to try again to free him. "You say you take out their limbs… so morbid."

Both McNeill and the talk were cut abruptly short when Eckhardt suddenly fell. Fatigue or panic, he was on the floor. Nicole was over him soon enough proclaiming it to be her fault. Lexine crept over to where McNeill was seated. Shortly thereafter he rose from his seat shaking off the lethargy he'd succumbed to from the stasis tube he'd been kept inside of.

"Well, one thing's for sure we can't go _anywhere_ with this quarantine still ongoing. Is there a way to shut it down at least in this sector?"

Seeing Eckhardt was coming back into his own Nicole Brennan reached her full height steadily. "There's really only two ways: either wait for the captain to make the order to override the command, that can only be done from the bridge, or we wait for an engineer to come and override it manually. The latter takes much longer though."

Nathan stifled a curse with a sweaty hand. Lexine approached him from his left.

"What are you thinking we do, Nathan?"

He shrugged. "I suppose I could make my way outside the room through the venting system… not that I'd like to but right now I don't think we have much choice."

Nicole didn't like it but she seemed powerless in this situation especially when faced with such raw tenacity. She nodded gently somehow knowing it to be the only way. "You'd better take a suit then. If you make a wrong move and you wind up outside the Ishimura you wouldn't stand a chance otherwise."

This time Nathan had no argument. He plodded toward the wall where a few environmental adjusting suits were strung like drapes. After some time only his helmet was left, ready to be locked in place. He soon after put it on and Nicole spoke to him using a wrist comm. she'd already been donning and altered to his respective frequency.

"You ready?" Her voice was shrill with tension slightly making Nathan unnerved as well.

"Yes," he replied. He came in loud and clear.

"Take haste but be cautious. You only have an hour of air to spare if things get hairy out there."

Nathan McNeill took a rivet gun and P-Sec pistol with him. They were the same ones he brought aboard from the colony. "Lock the vent covering and keep your eye on it after I'm gone." Lexine was the first to nod in acknowledgement, then Eckhardt and Nicole both did the same. Nathan looked far off to the distant wall where Gabe lay stranded in his stasis tube still. His face was contorted with anger, most likely at him.

He went out, the vent plating when down and locked. The man vanished into the bowels of the Ishimura with nothing but two pitiful firearms and a glow worm to light the way.

The other two ventured to a secluded spot where they talked coolly between one another. It didn't make Nicole worry, just curious. She had an idea then. She had to get in touch with Isaac in some way. Any way would do. One reason was the obvious: to make certain he was still all right. The second and severely morbid reason was to tell him how to take out the unwanted '_pests'_.

DISMEMBERMENT.

Nicole Brennan hit the on switch to a panel that broadcast ship wide transmissions. Her heart sank as what awaited her wasn't even a form of validity. White noise came over her ears and she shrank into herself. With pairs of eyes watching her every move the senior medical officer broke down into muddled sobs as reality bowled her over.

With her job relatively done here she no served no concrete purpose. She lost title and rank of CEC employee and became a simplistic human being. A quivering hand twisted the modern, yet barbaric squelch knob.

Tears jumped from the corners of her eyes as a stable frequency blew out. Hope, though faint, was present.


	5. Chapter 5

Isaac Clarke awoke in a mind-numbing stupor. Everything around him was washed over with an inaudible buzz. Maybe his brain had simply shut off. When reality came to him it clawed at his hearing like a ravenous beast of prey.

He'd been slumped against a wall. At some point he had stumbled his way to the employee quarters where sleep and play found accommodations amidst the never ending fray of work to be had aboard the Ishimura. Not far from him was the hall that led to the tram, though it was still shut off.

He inhaled harshly as he arose, sweeping unintentional saliva into his air passage making him cough something horrid. Over the loud speakers from any and all directions erupted the voice of some individual. Unsettling enough it didn't belong to the captain, concerning, considering what topic they spoke of.

"All personnel are encouraged to board any nearby escape pods and/or help stave hull breaches. Please and thank you."

The message was hurried and static infested at times. A couple ran past Isaac then fidgeting away from him frightened of his appearance in full engineer garb and Rivet gun in hand. He stopped them in mid step before they could meander away from him.

"Please, just—just stop. Where are you headed?" Another passerby darted around the three of them to a lift on an obvious mission. "Where is everyone going?"

The man replied, terror soaking his voice. "We're not too sure. There's some type of address going on at the cafeteria, that's where we were told to go."

"That's right," chimed the woman, finally.

Isaac was panting under his helmet now. Adrenaline was pouring into him all over again. He nodded and told them they'd better get going. He followed them closely behind, his blue visor illuminating their shoulders like a ghost.

The nearer they got to the cafeteria the darker the corridors became. Eventually Isaac took point.

"How long has the message been playing now?" Isaac asked the couple.

"What?" the man asked, confused.

"About an hour now," said the woman.

Clarke glanced at the holographic watch on the bracelet piece of his suit. Four hours had passed since this fiasco unleashed, since he'd left Denny and the others in the Processing level of the Mining deck. Where was Denny now, though? He shook his head. It didn't matter now. He slid his hand over a door allowing its recognition sensor to indicate his CEC employment code and it began its opening procedures.

"What do you think is going on?" she asked the engineer.

"Cora, it doesn't matter," snapped her male companion in a quickened slight voice. "We just have to get the hell off this ship."

"What is with this door," Isaac pondered aloud, ignoring the squabble at his back.

"I heard the bodies in the morgue all got up like zombies and wandered off," shrieked Cora, pressing her back to the wall in terror.

"Like that could happen," chimed her partner.

They let serenity creep in for a singular moment, cooling their constant rebuttals. Cora cringed, hugging herself, potentially thinking of family or friends. Her friend rubbed at the back of his neck feverishly. The damned door just didn't want to open.

"Makes sense," Isaac Clarke said.

"What does?" the man asked him impatiently.

The engineer peered over the shoulder of his suit, his ignited visor forming glistens of artificial light on its metal plating. "Dead bodies wandering around, I meant."

The man, in contempt for him, made a frown. The woman, Cora, enthralled by possible confirmation of the rumors, lingered closer to the armed engineer.

"Y—you really think so?"

He nodded. "I got a close look at one a few hours ago… a LOT closer than I wanted to. It just _appeared_ dead… rotten skin, tendons showing, bones splayed out…" He cut off, unable to continue out of fear of psyching himself out even more. The man behind them made a sound of disbelief and Isaac moved his head to meet him eye to eye.

His breath caught in his throat. The woman tried to scream but choked nonsense came forth instead. One of the things was right on top of the man like a phantom in all that black. "What a load of sh—" A boney appendage jammed itself through his skull and whipped him around a corner in one fell swoop.

The door still refused to open and Isaac looked over its panel quickly. As old as the ship was its machinery was more often than not giving out nowadays, making that one of the key reasons this voyage was planned to be its last. He found its ancient fuse panel, obviously untouched since initially installed and he swung at it like a mad man.

Instantly the door hissed and raised allowing passage to the frightened Ishimura pilgrims. The sounds of the man's body, some where out of sight, being mangled and mutilated filled their ears and they poured through the door when it had opened enough. Seconds later the door, stuck open due to its destroyed fuse panel, gave passage to the beast as well.

It gave pursuit, pieces of its recent victim still visible on its elongated claws and disfigured face. The woman shrieked and fell. Some type of membranous muck had been caught under foot making her lose traction. In no time the creature was over top of her ready for a deathly embrace.

It was denied by the heroic efforts put forth by Isaac Clarke and his readied Rivet gun. A Rivet bolt sheered its disgusting face in two making its slimy tongue protrude like the proboscis of an insect more than anything. However, hardly unfazed, it brought one of its fearsome blades down into Cora's left arm slicing it off.

She wailed and floundered about causing blood to bathe Isaac. Behind his visor his eyes quivered insanely, unable to keep steady. He fired another bolt where it met the monster's arm squarely and tore it off, pinning it to the opposite wall. With that done the nightmare crashed down to the floor motionless. The engineer panicked, shuddering sprouting first from his lungs then to every limb and appendage. With sounds of fright he surveyed the carnage.

Cora was dead, the pupils of her eyes already a dull white. He went to rake shaky fingers through his buzzed hair foregoing the fact he was still wearing the helmet. He spun on uncertain legs and trudged off toward the cafeteria once again.

The Rivet gun swayed by his side loosely and his other hand braced him to the cold wall to help keep him upright. He couldn't do anything as two helpless people were slain right before his eyes. He nearly wanted to cry from sheer anxiety, but his conscience swept the tears away. Now was not the time.

But if he couldn't even help those two how could he even pray helping poor Nicole? Again his brained jabbed at him: Now was not the time, and that was that. At last the door before him swung open on its hydraulic hinges and the display windows of the cafeteria met him. He blew a heavy sigh and went forth noticing a collected gaggle of people accumulated in the massive room all surrounding one other. Something paramount was going on in there.

The ruckus in the cafeteria overwhelmed the engineer before even one boot connected with the floor inside. A crowd of forty at least had corralled themselves around head security officer Alissa Vincent, her dyed crimson hair catching Isaac's attention before anything else. His breathing was still dense as he forced himself through a few stragglers in the back of the mob. Disgusted, terrified they moved effortlessly out of his way. He'd forgotten that Cora's blood still smothered his suit, semi dry already as he walked.

Alissa stood over towering all others as she stood rigidly atop a table, paying no mind that one boot lathered itself in ruined pudding while the other knocked over drink after drink. Two other security officers stood guard on either side of her at floor level, one sporting a P-sec pistol like Vincent's, the other allowing a Pulse rifle to dangle at their hip. The head of security tried in vain to quiet the masses before she presented a holographic image of a man Isaac didn't recognize. Either he was still too far away or it simply didn't click.

"Has anyone seen this man recently?" asked Vincent in a domineering voice.

The crowd reacted obscenely. "Who the hell give's two shakes about some person, haven't you been paying attention to this chaos everywhere? People! Are! Dying!" cried one of the faceless people. The entirety of them roared in bewildered agreement.

"Everyone, please," Vincent screamed again.

No one gave her a hint of attention and Isaac, who had found his place back behind everyone now, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed playing over the events that had happened up to this point throughout the folds of his brain. Nicole, he thought. Where are you? Suddenly the mass before him erupted evermore so with vigor in their shouts and he was becoming irritated. A gunshot silenced them all.

Alissa Vincent stood with her pistol still held overhead. "Everyone, please, we're searching for this man: Dr. Terrence Kyne. He's a fugitive and wanted for murder. We have high reason to believe he's sabotaging the Ishimura. For now we're attempting to establish the mess hall as a temporary safe haven."

"I heard they've already gotten one together down in Mining deck," someone rang out.

Isaac smirked. It was probably thanks to Denny.

"This is true," Vincent spoke, "but please keep in mind that we all have to stay strong and near one another here for the time being."

The faces of them all grew into a single form of disdain. Whether it was at the words the security head spoke or at her, Isaac Clarke didn't know. Next thing he knew, however, the crowd began dispersing. Some voiced they didn't care enough about some man while literal monsters ravaged the defenseless crew. Half of them went to the lower deck of the cafeteria to acquire some food. The other half meandered out of the cafeteria in a rushed manner of contempt.

Disappointed, Alissa holstered her gun and disembarked from the tabletop. "Come on, you two. We lost them here, let's just go."

Something pushed Isaac then. He removed himself from the wall and he shuffled toward the security group wanting to say something. He wanted to ask about Nicole. When the three of them saw the blood covered engineer approach with the wavering Rivet gun in hand the two officers drew their weapons without hesitation.

"Hey!" Clarke cried out.

The head threw up a hand dissuading her help. "He looks all right."

Behind the visor Isaac made a face of uncertainty. "All right?"

She nodded back to him. "A _lot_ of people have been going loco recently. Can't be too sure, especially when someone approaches looking the way you do."

He apologized and went to ask about Nicole when the group that had recently left the cafeteria came bounding back in. A couple of them were overcome with blood, fresh and dripping.

"What's wrong?" Alissa asked them in a tense manner.

One of them took it upon themselves to reply straight away. "There's something out there! Something big and it killed a few people in seconds!"

The panic-stricken mass flocked to the lift to go to the lower deck of the mess hall. Alissa looked at Isaac then, withdrawing her firearm yet again. "You know how to shoot that thing?" she asked him, almost jokingly.

"I'd better," he retorted. He and the three security officers looked to the exit waiting for whatever was on its way to make its horrific debut.


	6. Chapter 6

Dead Space belongs to Visceral Studios and Electronic Arts. I own _**nothing**_, fyi. Thanks for the support everyone. Here's to chapter six!

DEAD SPACE: ON BOARD

Chapter 6: War is Hell

The worried chatter of the mass below Isaac and the others was deafening. The poor engineer could hear nothing else and feared if the creature came overtop of them he'd be unable to hear so. Nevertheless, his Rivet gun pointed the way of the door.

One of Alissa's men pointed to the spanning panes of glass that led straight to the doorway. A blackly mass, hulking and potent in its stride, trudged past and reared itself into the shut door with a sick, heavy thud. All four of them jerked but kept their respective firearms up. One of the guards quickly checked his magazine to make sure it had plenty of ammunition at the ready.

Another thump, this one loud enough to dull half the chatter of the folks down below came again. The door bowed inward some but yielded none of its strength. Alissa motioned for one of her men and Isaac to accompany her to the door to check its durability. As the fourth, nearby officer took a couple steps, the head officer spun her head and pointed her hand like a gun over to one of the panes of glass. The guard regrettably obliged. As they closed in on the door Alissa motioned to Isaac once more. She shouted through the receiver of his helmet to bolt down the base of the door, lest the monster somehow discovers how to open it. He did as he was told and knelt down to begin the procedure.

As the engineer's first bolt rammed through the thick metal of the door one of the windows blew in sending shards into the man where armor hadn't protected him, shortly thereafter, the beast lunged inside as well.

It tackled the unfortunate officer and skidded over the floor with him in tow. A wide streak of crimson fluid followed its path as it careened into a number of tables and chairs set up in the usual manner of a mess hall. A couple souls that had yet to make it to the deck below cried out in frightful panic.

The creature, made up of several bodies of the dead jerked violently. It whipped the shredded remains of the officer across the room where it flopped over line forming barriers like a mere rag. Its head, what looked to be a head, opened with a set of three-jointed jaws. A ghastly snarl erupted from somewhere deep inside it. It sounded to Isaac like four or maybe even five pair of lungs had come together to bellow out such a nasty, deep noise.

Alissa and her remaining aid opened relentless fire on the thing. Each round hardly pierced its ominous, thick hide. It charged the two of them and they disbanded in opposite directions of one another. It continued its rampage toward the nameless officer who stumbled and crashed down to his back as his rifle clattered over the tiling. He looked back up just in time to see his death happen.

A pair of massive, bone crushing arms came down on him like a wrecking ball. The arms, made up of several upon several arms and legs of the worst off people Isaac had ever seen. Horror stricken faces peered out from the bulk of the monster in every which way. The thing, now closer to Isaac decided he was its next target. It slammed its overbearing arms down again and off it went straight for him. Isaac could hear the tile and metal beneath its massive form crack and moan with every blow it sent out as it moved. He was suddenly paralyzed, knowing he had to move, yet knowing he somehow couldn't. The reason was intangible to him and the concept of dodging such a nightmare at that particular moment seemed out of the question. There was no way around it now.

Isaac Clarke was dead.

Alissa Vincent threw herself into him and they both teetered out of the creature's path, but barely. Isaac went to get up but Alissa forced his back against the floor instead. Her eyes peered in through his visor, into his own. They were wild and filled with a fuel he'd never before seen.

"Do you wanna live or do you wanna die, you son of a bitch?"

The head officer had given him a primal ultimatum. Live or die, it was something he never necessarily thought he'd ever have to hear as a CEC engineer, a computer geek. That was when adrenaline soaked his bones and he sprawled out from under her.

In the heat of the moment he'd dropped and subsequently lost the Rivet gun. Knelt down and fidgeting forth with his hands he looked like an old time soldier rummaging through a trench. And now the beast was after him again. This time Vincent was far and away reloading her gun for another round of punishment. Isaac panicked and grabbed the first thing he could manage to his grasp: A standard issue mining Plasma Cutter.

This device made carving rock simplistic as it delivered short quick bursts of hot, searing plasma over minerals. It was like a pickaxe but much more powerful and accurate. It had to be modified to better work against moving targets and the like, but even in this state, in that moment, Clarke knew he could utilize the machine.

With the monster now over him he brought up the cutter and pulled the rigid trigger unleashing a split second burst of rock-cracking fire. The thing yelped but forced its way regardless. It struck Isaac and bowled him over. He would be lying if he proclaimed it didn't hurt, but it was good enough for him it hadn't killed him.

Alissa found her way to Isaac's side and they both brought up their weapons. Simultaneously they opened fire. The rounds from Alissa's P-Sec pistol did little against its armored plating made of what could only be thought of as human bone. It snarled out loud at them and started a new course back at the couple.

Something came to Clarke's mindset then. Like a voice in his very skull he instantly believed he knew what to do. Seeing a speckle of flesh between the beast's armored plating Isaac delivered blast after blast to that one spot. Brown fluid, most likely oxidizing blood, spewed out with every shot that connected. Alissa followed suit and now both engineer and officer aimed for its exposed, deadened skin. As it reached dreadful range of them its arm came unhinged as if it had been connected with nothing more than a peg. It crashed to the floor and flopped mercilessly around like a helpless infant then.

Feeling the deed was done Isaac lowered the cutter. It had only one blast left in its cartridge, luckily enough for him. Vincent wasn't, however. She flung her form over back of the monster and began unloading repeated shots into its back. It shrieked in corresponding pain, or what only could be described as pain, until it was near motionless. Then, without loss of vigor, she brought the pistol to the back of the thing's cranium point blank. With that done the hellish creature fell entirely void of life… or lack thereof.

Isaac undid his helmet, needing to vent rage and terror or simply cooling off his sweat covered face he couldn't answer. The helmet fell neatly into his arched, gloved fingers he threw it as hard as he could into the seeping mass of the now motionless entity. With his hands now on his knees he bent and dry heaved a few times. He wished to vomit if only for the sake of vomiting. He had to release this god forsaken tension somehow, some way.

Vincent made her way to him and patted his back. He couldn't feel it due to the dense nature of his suit in that area but he responded just the same. This response was a violent one.

"What the fuck was that?" he demanded, his voice high in fright.

"I'm not sure… something new, apparently. I've never seen anything like it."

Isaac Clarke attempted to pool his words together but they poured out through some unseen mental crack. He flailed his arms like a madman on drugs but that could only convey so little. At last his lips could match his brain. "Just what in the—how are you so calm about all this-this…Shit?!"

Alissa replenished yet another fresh clip into her pistol before holstering it for good. From the corner of her mouth she blew the vibrant red hair out from in front of her eyes. The headstrong officer then gazed deep and hard into Isaac's tired pupils.

She swallowed a dry lump. "Having to be in the security department we underwent quite the hell of training. Not saying we were ever properly prepared for shit like this, but… call me odd, but I think in a way this is where I shine. Like I'm meant for this or something."

Isaac turned his back to her. What she'd said to him then, adhering to how it was she'd spoken it with little spirit, made the engineer not want to look at her. Stiffened hands, like talons, raked through what hair Clarke still had atop his head. "I can't say I share that feeling," he exclaimed. Why did he feel regrettable in saying that?

Neither the officer nor the engineer appeared to be good in situations such as these: awkward encounters. Ironically enough, it seemed in the heat of battle the two of them were closer than when solace eclipsed them. Alissa broke the bearing silence first.

"I'm still after Kyne," she began. "Someone as improvisational as yourself could be quite the help in the hunt, seeing as I've lost my current help… God rest their souls."

God, Isaac thought mockingly in his brain. What type of role did He play? His train of random thought was broken.

"What do you say, engineer? Want to do more than fuss with wires?"

If Isaac could have laughed he probably would have at that smart remark. But that side of him just wasn't in him then. In fact, at that point in time for that snide slip of the tongue he wanted to deck Alissa Vincent like no other before her. But he wasn't like that. He let the unnecessary remark slide.

"I can't," he said, turning back to face her finally. "There's something I already have to do."

Alissa got close to him; so close, in fact, Clarke could feel her steaming breaths roll over his already sweating cheeks. It felt cool due to that. Then she backed off as if she'd had a suspicion confirmed.

"You're searching for someone yourself, right?"

Isaac didn't respond. Even when all seemed lost it was still none of this woman's business what, or rather who it was, he was after.

"I hope you find them," Vincent proclaimed. "Keep your channels open, though. In case I need help. All things considered in this forsaken place I just may." The head officer slipped one leg out through the opening made by the beast in between jagged fingers of maniacal glass. She twisted her upper body to peer back at the forlorn engineer a final time. "What's your name?" An innocent question if there ever was one.

Isaac Clarke, at last put the Plasma Cutter away knowing he'd still have to wrangle up more ammo from some place. "Isaac. My name is Isaac Clarke."

Alissa motioned a non-specific nod. "I hope we meet again, Isaac." That being said the officer was off and away before the man could muster a reply, not that he could form one. Hearing someone finally call him by proper name was off-setting somewhat.

Like a brainless ghoul Isaac meandered over to his tossed helmet and hoisted it from the tiled floor. An already drying patch of blood was smeared across the forehead of it. Somehow he no longer cared and placed the stifling head piece back on regardless. Some of the other crew returned topside to gaze at the aftermath. They all buzzed with nonsensical talking like bees or flies. A couple times some of them screamed or gasped. The engineer blocked them out. These sheep, this herd, was no longer of any concern to him. There was only one top priority to be had.

Nicole. That was right. His one saving grace was the only thing he could rely on now. Nicole. He hoped with every fiber of his being she was still alive. She just _had_ to be.

Slowly he made his way to the same shattered pane that Vincent used as her escape. "This is gonna be a hell of a long day."


	7. Chapter 7

I OWN **NOTHING**. EA and Visceral do, keep that in mind. Enjoy.

DEAD SPACE: ON BOARD

Chapter 7: Ever So Closer

With the quarantine still blanketing the Ishimura traversing the unfathomable stretches of its hull was a staggering thing to imagine. Isaac had, in one way or another, guided himself ever closer to the Medical Deck—to Nicole herself. Isaac had recently procured an idea and hoped it would work.

Being an engineer, communication was one of the main concerns and tasks for his job description while aboard the Planet Cracking vessel. Often times they would have to repair communication arrays and/or channels two, and on rare occasions, three times in one day. These jobs were always long, laborious, and tiring to no end and sometimes could take two men to get the job done right. That meant two men, their full shifts, were necessary; an endeavor of 20 hours between the two. It was really the Ishimura's doing, Isaac knew. Not like it was an entity—he stopped his train of thought for a moment, his booted feet coming to a halt in the tram tunnel. His echoing footfalls had also ended. The Ishimura being a live entity: it was funny banter before, but now it was very well transcending to the ideologies of realism. Then Clarke gave his head a vigorous shake. The ship was _not_ alive! The communication problem he'd often faced was due to the Ishimura's age, not a mechanical mind, a ghost in the machine. Being 50 years old, or was it over, made its installed programs, hardware, and whatever else a catastrophe on the verge just waiting to happen.

Isaac lowered his left hand; fingers spread like a fan, and permitted his holographic guidance system to show him the way. Straight ahead… surprise there, he thought almost maliciously. Afterward he opened the holographic map that projected from the broad chest plate of his suit. The map hovered before his helmeted face and illuminated both him and the surrounding tunnel walls and flooring in the same ominous blue glow he'd grown so accustomed to.

The poor engineer sighed. The map showed him to be a fair distance from his intended goal still. The suit wasn't the heaviest thing to adorn, but its bulky shape and overbearing HUD made it tiresome for long treks not involved in zero G atmospheres. He stifled the map then and trudged onward, the cutter still in his other hand. Still, he reminded himself there was his idea, and he managed a gallop in his step somehow.

At last he found what he was after. An old telecom station sat nestled in a nook in the tram tunnel. This system had been bypassed some twenty years ago for the system the Ishimura had used since then all the way up until now. If that system were a caveman, he thought in a comical fashion, this telecom was a dinosaur. That got a faint smile on his face beneath the helmet. He undid the cap of the telecom, its hinges creaking from slight rust, and he lifted it to reveal its contents. Looking at its innards was a laugh in itself as, to Isaac at least, it looked like a child's toy compared to contemporary means of communication. He'd have it hacked in no time. All that was required was to cross some wires, if they still carried life in them, and adjust to the proper frequency. If Nicole's comm. Link was in close enough proximity Isaac should be able to patch through to her, if only through a barely audible means.

He went to work; his breathing so subtle one could mistake him for holding it in. It took only a couple minutes for Isaac to have the procedure done and his anxious fingers fiddling with a squeaky dial to find any frequency that could carry the old station's messages.

It was a simple setup. Isaac played with the wires until he had them properly crimped and assorted. Once that was done he hooked their connection up with his own suit's communications and from there he could use the dial to sort through the visceral static the telecom station hadn't been subject to in at least a couple decades.

In a methodical fashion the engineer siphoned through the varying frequencies with a determination none could truly hold unless first back into a corner. He felt all would be lost otherwise and so he pushed both his body and mind to an extent he never knew was personally possible. Every other five seconds or so he would call out stating his name. Dead static and lowly hums met his ears within the helmet. At times the sound became so piercing he'd cringe and other times he'd halt all breathing in order for severely intent listening.

Here and there the young man peered over his shoulders to make sure no more of those nightmarish creatures were swooping up from behind. Oddly enough, they never were. Isaac had convinced himself by then that they only preyed in tight corridors. Whether or not they knew how to hunt, or even manipulate basic knowledge for that fact, eluded him, however.

Such a period of time passed that Clarke's eyes began to droop. He'd begun falling into a hushed stupor by the hypnotic rings and tones of the coming over the speakers in his helmet. His one leg had fallen completely numb and the other followed as it began tingling with a burning sensation. He'd given up calling out and forced himself to speak only one word now; one name: Nicole.

He chimed it over and over as if a broken record had replaced his vocal cords. "Nicole, Nicole…" After several unsuccessful minutes, Clarke fell to his last leg, his voice a quivering mess of hushed whispers. "Nikki," he said wearily, "Nikki… please. Nikki, answer me—please. Nikki…"

His eyes bolted open then. A strained voice answered his beckoning. It was female. It was familiar and a godsend to him at that point. It really was Nicole.

"Isaac?" Static reigned supreme again as nearly all else was cut out. She returned in between spouts of gruff static. "Isaac, is that you?"

The engineer nearly thrust himself into the aged telecom station. Its tabs where it was bolted into place rocked and squealed some from the sudden motion. "Nikki!"

The speech broke from hushes to intangible blather. Nicole's voice was sweet, yet panicked, beautiful in so many words, yet frightened to sincere ends. Isaac caught one final phrase before everything became blotted out: Zero-G Therapy. The line went completely dead as some of the ancient wiring sputtered and fizzled out.

Feverishly, Isaac punched the coordinates into his RIG and spanned out his left hand again allowing his built-in Locator unit to show the way and enlighten his confused sense of direction. It etched further down the Tram tunnel and went on out of sight in the distant darkness. His suit's chest piece read roughly 300 yards. Three football fields, he thought, stand between her and I. He sighed letting out a sulking feeling of desperation. When would this task be done?

His footfalls echoed off every available surface like a mighty bass drum once more as he left the old communication's station behind and dead. Clarke's mind raced through the muddled past. He began picturing Nicole when proposed to her. Down on one knee, just like he'd been only a minute ago at the old terminal, a glistening ring held seemingly aloft in his outstretched hands. Her tears of joy gave the same distinct shimmering as that ring. She was pure gold to him, and her tears were that of jewelry as well. His isolated conscience chuckled then. That was two days before they were Jupiter orbit bound. They met up with fifty other crew hands and boarded the USG Ishimura. Two weeks later and here they were in complete disarray and terror.

He stood still for a moment, brief, but eternal all the same. Fiancé… He'd never said the word until now, not even in the folds of his mind. It still didn't feel real to him that his girlfriend of four years was more now. A fiancé—his fiancé, he felt a shock of awe. She really was his.

Then the engineer furrowed his brow, the Plasma Cutter in his dominant hand clinking of the ribbed armor of his suit. She wouldn't be his if she were dead. With that maniacal thought he exploded into the quickest sprint the cumbersome suit would permit. When his breathing grew heavy he kept on and when his throat grew hoarse he cared in the least.

He was coming for Nicole. He was coming for his fiancé.

Only a hundred meager yards now; that was all that separated the two lovers. Isaac Clarke would soon be reunited and hopefully happy again. But as he trudged on something demonic lurked in the shadows to his back, and it was just about to pounce.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for not updating lately. It's been a hell of a year and been dealing with personal life issues, but all that matters is chapter 8 is finally here! Again I own **NOTHING**, it's all EA and Visceral Studios yadda yadda yadda…. Enjoy :-)

DEAD SPACE: ON BOARD

Chapter 8: A Chance Happening

Isaac's monstrous footfalls thudded throughout the whole of the Tram tunnel. Sweat had been soaking him through under his suit but now wasn't the time to worry over the matter.

The coming stretch of the tunnel seemed so much more ominous than Isaac knew. Had it always been this dismal in this section of the Ishimura? He didn't believe so. Regardless his footsteps continued pressing onward. Then the all-too-familiar unsettled feeling as of late began seeping over him again. As the very air around him seemed to grow still and black he wondered how Alissa Vincent was doing on her end of chasing down the doctor. Maybe she'd caught him. He didn't know.

The engineer stood for a while never moving an inch, his hollow breathing the only sound to be heard. Something was definitely with him. With the cutter securely in hand he spun on his heels with the tool readied. His finger caught and he nearly severed her head from her body.

A young girl, no older than thirteen, so Isaac believed, stood in a messy assortment of dirtied coveralls and some form of cloth tossed over her dainty shoulder. The man narrowed his eyes behind his visor in a look of bewilderment. He was beginning to learn, however. He would not be caught off guard, regardless of the circumstance. After all, the very sight of such a young one aboard the Ishimura was startling enough in itself.

Isaac approached the oddity of a girl with a semi raised cutter. "Little girl," he began, "what are you doing out here all alone?"

He closed the gap between them but she never swayed in the least. She stood erect, though slightly hunched with her hands being quite the peculiarity. They were brought up only enough like they were supported by a low leveled railing. He fingers moved mechanically constantly opening and closing. Her eyes weren't void of life, but they were bleak all the while still. The coveralls she'd donned were about two sizes too large for her petite form and lastly, her hair, just beyond shoulder length, was chaotically matted. Half her body was stowed within the shadows.

Isaac slumped to a knee, somewhat squirming the rest of the distance to her, his voice was tender and endearing. "Surely there's someone on board here searching desperately for their lost little girl."

The engineer put a stop to his spread gloved hand mere inches from the girl's pale, round face. There was a slithering sound behind her. Sinister was a good description for it, as was disturbing. An unseen force, just out of the reach of Isaac's visor glow was moving what sounded to be its segmented body over the metal plating of the floor. For a moment he believed he heard gargantuan footsteps but soon after realized the sound was only his mistaken, reverberating heartbeat.

"Girl," he spoke in a shrill tone, "you might want to move." With a sudden jerk he brought the cutter up in a firm aim. "Now!"

But everything at once was caught in his throat. He didn't know whether to scream from utter terror, cry from sheer fright, or fall over and accept what was undoubtedly his inevitable fate.

The grotesque mass that peered back at him was a garbled heap of decaying; bloodied bodies wrangled together in a disorienting array. It had four legs that much Isaac could tell. Each leg looked to be made up of what was once an arm and leg each, bones splayed out acting as supports. There was no face for the awful truth was worse. A proboscis-like structure, much like a tentacle, latched somewhere onto the back of the girl's head, hidden away amidst her disheveled hair. He tried to evade but his reactions were too slow.

The girl was on top of him, first wrapping her slender, nimble arms about his. Doing so, she pulled him into her with inhuman strength and he had to use his other free hand to keep the meat of his neck out of harm's way. With a sickening sound of tearing flesh and crackling bone the girl's jaw dislocated and presented a trap of jagged, unorganized fangs. From there her skull split vertically in half revealing a wider, deeper mouth where more fangs, formed from restructured bones, waited to taste his blood. She let out a scream of bloodlust but it was all Isaac would let her have.

A solid hook met her in the side of her now cranial cavity. The impact rammed a piece of bone between Isaac's knuckles but the strike also momentarily stunned his oppressor and he scrambled back on quaking boots. His left hand had already fallen numb from the stabbing.

As if reacting to an immediate temperature change, the girl's body shuddered, howling again, and she shambled backward like a human spider. Her limbs interlocked into seeming organic ports. With this done her head cocked a full one hundred-eighty degrees and her clumped hair dangled over a second mouth twice the size of the one that had already tried to devour the engineer's neck. This mouth opened like a maw and let forth a roar, something one would here in the savannah or deep in a jungle.

The beast lunged for him, but this time Clarke was quicker. He evaded its lumbering attack and without hesitating he delivered a few good shots with the plasma cutter. Something was wrong. Every last shot was dampened by some type of natural armor plating. The monster threw itself onto its hind legs. If it was a form of intimidation it worked. He was transfixed by the awe of its horrid presence. It went to fall on him then, but its hind leg was sliced by a beam shot from a Line Gun. Searing particles hissed and scattered over the metal floor. The smell of burnt flesh was instantly available.

Someone, a man in the exact garb as Isaac, was tugging at his bicep as the monster collapsed into itself. "What the fuck are you doing?" the newcomer cried. "Come on!"

Isaac peered from the stranger to the monster and back again. He gritted his teeth so forcibly they hurt. "Fuck!" he expelled and the two of them made a mad dash for a waiting vent hatch.

When the two men were safe inside the grate was slid in place and the stranger used a high-pressured rivet gun, much like the one Isaac had earlier, to keep it that way. The gun being on a strap, the man slung it to his side and then shoved Isaac into the wall. Appalled by the sudden gesture, the engineer pushed himself off but was rammed back into the surface.

"What the hell?!"

The rivet gun was instantly at the temple of his helmet. This dominant stranger was obviously no nonsense. Rigid fingers cupped around Clarke's neck and a shallow breathing faltered from behind the helmet of his fellow man. The gun was rattling in an unnerving manner from beside his head.

"Shut up," the man said. "Just shut the fuck up. I don't have time to save some idiot's ass." The voice was on the brink of mumbling under one's breath.

Still under the press of the man Isaac undid his helmet slowly to supply a sense of defenselessness and trust. With the helmet off the acrid smell in the air was overpowering and that, mixed with the reflecting helmet's glow made his eyes wince terribly. His mouth was dry and he swallowed hard.

"Thank you." He then placed a hand on either one of the man's arms. "I mean it. But now's not the time to be pointing things at your fellow crewmate, now is it?"

There was a twinge in his oppressing partner and with another shove, this time with less vigor, he was freed. The man sat on an electric panel and undid his own helmet. Much like Isaac his hair was buzzed and dark but his eyes were much more creased than his own. Whether hardened by these events or life in general it was difficult to discern. The man dropped the gun again and scrubbed at his weary face while he blew a much needed sigh. Even his mannerisms were much like him too, he thought.

A long and awkward silence fell over the two of them as the man caught his bearings. He rubbed at his eyes almost rhythmically and after some more time passed, with his head rested in his hand, he gave Isaac a stern look over.

"Where were you headed?" he asked.

Isaac slumped against the wall believing his reply to be folly if nothing else. "To the Med deck; I need to get to Zero-G Therapy."

The other man chuckled hoarsely at this, shaking his head. "And why the hell are you going there for? That's ground zero."

His words were puzzling to the engineer. "Ground zero?"

He nodded in a defeated way. "Yeah. Have you been paying any attention to this hell we've been caught up in? Those things possess the bodies of the dead! The dead bodies aboard the Ishimura were stashed, where else, but in the morgue! And the morgue is where? On the Med deck!"

By this time Clarke had folded his arms over his chest in contemplation allowing the words to sink in some. "That's some sound detective work. You a part of the security crew?"

The man bellowed another crude sneer. "No, you're looking at the Acting Chief Engineer. But it's not so much 'detective work' as you call it, just deduction using common knowledge. Of course, if you're headed into the hornet's nest I'd hope you have a damn good reason to do so. You're looking for someone, right?"

Isaac let his back slide down against the wall until his arms could rest pleasantly enough atop his knees. He nodded his head and asked how it was he knew.

"Deduction," the man said again, this time pointing his finger at the engineer and clamping his thumb down like a gun. "Well," he began, "that and the fact you're wearing the same face I have been since this whole fiasco started."

Clarke could feel the slight optimism of the air drowning under the now present sorrow. Just like any glimmer of hope recently, it was being smothered out. It was getting old but at least he felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit of sorts.

"You pinpointed me well enough. Her name's Nicole, she's Head Nurse."

His partner raised his brow some. "Damn, Head Nurse? Living out some fetish, are we?"

The two shared legitimate jovial laughter before succumbing to the ill effects of the deafening, unrelenting bane that was their dismal situation, but now Isaac's curiosity had been piqued.

"Where are you going then?"

The Acting Chief Engineer almost looked surprised that a question like that had been asked of him. Isaac paid it no mind and waited for a response. It took some time but the man finally formed one.

"Hydroponics, that's where I'm headed, there's a horticulturalist on that deck named Elizabeth. She's the one I'm after. It seems we both had the same idea, though, using the Tram tunnels as a way of covering distance here. It seems you were unlucky enough to meet up with the Deceiver, however."

Isaac nearly jumped. "That thing out there! That's what the fuck it's called?"

The man waved his hand dismissively at him. "Calm down, it's just what I've come to call it. As you saw firsthand, it reels in its 'prey' with the body of that poor girl and then once it latches onto you like a parasite it drags you into its real, waiting body."

"I see," said Clarke. "How'd you come across it?"

The man stood, he was obviously getting antsy. "I was working Engineering deck, keeping the engines going until someone fucked with 'em, no idea who. I and a couple other crew hands abandoned our posts there when some kind of dementia hit. Then those _things_ started pouring in like someone turned a damned faucet on." He shook his head as if to rid himself of any horrid, plaguing thoughts. "We scattered and met up here in the Tram tunnels. Our one friend wound up going berserk and smashed his head against a door, that's where we left him. My other comrade was whisked away by that… Deceiver. Look, does it really matter? We have more important things to tend to, don't we?"

Isaac stood as well and presented his hand to his fellow engineer. "You're right. And thanks back there. You totally kept my ass together," he snickered almost non-jokingly.

The man analyzed the gesture like some foreign language but then took the gloved hand into his own and gave it a firm, powerful shake. "I couldn't just leave you like that. I got this stupid, pointless thing called a guilty conscience I would've had to deal with."

The two shared another slight laugh and gave each other proper introductions at last.

"The name's Isaac. Isaac Clarke, journeyman engineer."

His partner grew a smug look on his face. "Damn, you've got a Head Nurse _and_ you're a journeyman engineer? You lucky bastards got to move around the Ishimura instead of being stuck behind the same machinery day in and day out like us." He shook his head in silent admiration. "Well, that's neither here nor there. Jacob Temple, 2nd engineer and Acting Chief Engineer. I think it's about time we get going."

Isaac was taken aback some. "We?" he pondered aloud. "You called me a fool and yet we're partnering up now?"

Jacob was busy harnessing the Line gun back into his grip but that didn't mean he wasn't able to reply. "We're much closer to the Med deck than we are Hydroponics. I figure two heads, as clueless as yours seems to be at times, are better than one." He stood upright, checking the gun for its level of ammunition. "We'll go in, get your girl, head up top, get my girl, and then find a way out of his hellhole."

The engineer could already feel his confidence building. It was amazing what the simple words of a fellow human being could do to help lighten a situation such as theirs. For the first time in some while now he truly felt achieving his goals was not as hopeless as he'd first believed.

The two engineers, now entirely suited back up and armed for the impending combat dove head first back into the fray of Hades itself. Behind them they left the Deceiver and before them were the countless trials of humanity, of impossibility, of helplessness.

We can do this, Isaac thought as they neared the halls of the Ishimura once more, their weapons constantly readied, their focus intensely raised. As far off ambiance guaranteed a meeting with the gruesome manifestations of the devil was nearing it was all Isaac Clarke could think back about aside from seeing Nicole's sweet, hopefully alive face again.

We can do this.


End file.
